


give an inch

by JazzRaft



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Humor, Love/Hate, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: One would assume that a heroic rescue from a giant, Paladin-eating space dragon might warrant a little appreciation. Alas, Lotor still has a long way to go to earn the privilege of some thanks. Especially from Keith. If he just gives him an inch, Lotor will take it as a mile.





	give an inch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Another year gone by, another line scratched on the wall in the rarepair ballpit. What better way is there to celebrate the holiday season by challenging ourselves for another gift exchange? For my ol' buddy in the ballpit, I hope this meets your rivalmancy request! Have a wonderful holiday! <3

“Oh. You’re still alive.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.  I might think you don’t like me.”

The Black Paladin’s glare could hardly be called a “glare,” in the definitive sense of the word. Lotor would honestly have preferred some indication of anger over the apathetic stare he got instead, dismissing his continued existence as an unfortunate fluke in the universe’s grand design. One look from Keith Kogane wielded such callous indifference that it diminished every single title in front of Lotor’s name down to the small print of a terms and services agreement: easily ignored and passed over for what Keith was really there for – which, in this case, happened to be any other biped within breathing radius (or hugging radius: the Paladins of Voltron were a touchy-feely-gooey bunch; must have been a human thing, coping with the inevitability of mortality after a harrowing fight through affectionate, tactile contact… Not that Keith seemed particularly receptive to it; must have been the Galra in him, Lotor could relate to that much better).

It didn’t bother Lotor. After a lifetime of being – most times, quite literally – stepped over by a much more malicious Black Paladin than her present pilot, he’d grown a damn dense skin for surviving disappointment. Not that Keith’s cold neutrality was anything worth cringing over in comparison to the titanium boot of his own father.

Still, he thought saving the Paladins’ glittery, quintessence butts from a giant, three-headed space dragon warranted at least _some_ gratitude from their leader. He supposed the verbal acknowledgment that he was still alive after that little side scrape through the cosmos was the most validation he was going to get out of it. Which was fine! Direct eye contact for more than five seconds was a big step above pretending he was invisible.

Lotor shrugged off Keith’s unimpressed regard, left his ship in the loading bay while the Paladins applauded their survival, and went about his business. He didn’t linger, not in body nor in mind. He had plenty more pressing matters to attend than the ailing approval of a hard to please half breed. It was just one in a tight cluster of knots he still needed to unravel to earn the Paladins’ trust. Fine again. Exile from the Galra Empire had taught him patience, if nothing else. He had much to atone for, so he didn’t expect a radical change from hostility to camaraderie over a single tangle with death from an evil space serpent.

“Hey.”

Which was why the sharp and sudden greeting in the labs later came as such a surprise. One that Lotor _did not_ jump at, the holotapes could prove _nothing_ (not once he was done erasing the footage). He was heir to the Galra Empire! He did not spook so easily… but damn him if the hybrid didn’t have a light tread and a magnetism to dark corners that he could fully take advantage of.

“Ah, right, yes,” Lotor coughed, tuning himself back into a composition appropriate for his status. “Greetings, Paladin. What can I do for you?”

“It’s Keith.”

Like that was going to change his vocabulary after the first twenty times he corrected him on it. He always said it like it was an order, and Lotor had a certain amount of spite for being told what to do. Besides, he got the impression that it was just a reflex, not an offer he was actually expected to take. Names were between friends, and to say they were anything of the sort would be the punchline to a very bad joke.

Keith stood like he always did, arms crossed, shoulders hunched, back against the wall like he was ready to spring off it and attack him at any moment – part of the reason Lotor stayed safely across the room, behind a contingency of beakers he could smash into a shiv if he really needed to. He was fully prepared for any one of the Voltron pilots to decide he couldn’t be trusted and vote to throw him out the air lock, not just Keith. And he had a back-up plan for every conceivable betrayal he could think of.

But Keith wasn’t there to boot him from the Castle. Lotor was beginning to think he might never find out why Keith was there, with how long it took him to speak again. When he did, it was at the floor – must have met his daily quota for direct eye contact already.

“We’re having dinner to celebrate surviving. Hunk’s cooking something Galran. You can come down, if you want.”

…Well how about that? Was that a whiff of earthling hospitality he smelled? A little give to the brambles barring his way from the Paladins’ approval? A tiny beam of light between the thorns of Keith’s mistrust?

Or did one of his more amenable teammates blackmail him into the invitation? Or was this part of that betrayal plot he was just waiting for to stab him in the back? Was _he_ meant to be served as part of Hunk’s “Galran cooking?”

…Maybe exile had taught him to be a little more paranoia to go with that patience. He wasn’t the one that needed to be most wary, given that he had been the perceived antagonist allowed within Voltron’s ivory palace. He’d understood and respected their unwillingness to trust him at the beginning. He supposed, if Keith was volunteering the invitation – and Lotor would just assume it was voluntary until proven otherwise – the least he could do was accept the offer as a sign of good faith.

“I will join you shortly then,” Lotor said, smoothing out a smile to better interpret his pleasure over the inclusion. “If it’s not too much of an imposition, that is.”

Keith lifted his perpetual glare from the ground like he was prepared to tell him his whole presence on this ship was an imposition. And Lotor was fully prepared to _not_ skewer him alive for his impudence – _remember diplomacy, Lotor, it’s the key to your redemption, just smile and nod and take it like a Galra._ But Keith just pressed his lips together on what Lotor _knew_ was going to be an insult, and revised the statement.

Into nothing.

He shook his head like he was mentally talking himself out of something, and turned to leave. And Lotor was perfectly content with silence from the aloof Paladin rather than barbed comments. He was just turning back to close up his work for the evening himself, when Keith’s rough voice stopped him again.

“Thanks for the help today.”

It was so soft, and Keith was gone so quickly afterwards, that Lotor almost tricked himself into believing Keith’s presence had been some sort of space-mad hallucination. It would have to be, for Keith to ever admit his thanks out loud, wouldn’t it? Had he even invited him down to dinner? Had he imagined that, too?

Lotor was half afraid he’d walk into the mess hall and they would all be standing there with bayards aimed to fire. But instead, he did in fact find a Galran feast on the table to celebrate their survival over the space beast. And Keith’s gunmetal glare fleetingly catching him from across the table all throughout the meal. As if he were just as nervous about his thanks being received as Lotor was about never hearing them.

It wasn’t acceptance, nor forgiveness for everything he’d done, but it was a step in the right direction.


End file.
